01 - Murder at Ashgrove House

by Margaret Addison

  ‘I see what you’re getting at. No-one had to use the hall to get outside or come in, where they might have been observed by the servants or other guests coming down the stairs or crossing to use the lavatory or the like.’

  ‘Exactly, Lane. Now, with that in mind, let’s go through the suspects one by one shall we. Before we start, I assume no little, eagle-eyed housemaid just happened to be looking out of the window at a crucial time and happened to see one of the household or guests on the terrace, did they? Or perhaps one of the lady’s maids returned to a bedroom quicker than expected by the occupant and found it empty?’

  ‘I’m afraid not, sir. They were all much too busy trying to keep on top of everything. The servants were severely understaffed, you see, on account of a lot of the guests having been unexpected and them not having had time to get in extra help. Plus, I understand Lady Belvedere was very demanding, which put even more pressure on them. She insisted that everything be just so and if it wasn’t then everyone tended to get it in the neck, so to speak, including Lady Withers. Apparently she was always on edge when her sister came to visit, dropped things and knocked things off tables even more often than she was apt to do.’

  ‘I expect her fear of displeasing her sister stemmed from childhood. Right, let’s start with Miss Simpson, shall we? I think we can discount her fairly easily, don’t you, for the reasons we talked about before. She had no opportunity to return the weapon to the study before the housemaid decided to dust the gun cabinet and found the lock forced. So, unless she had an accomplice, she can’t be our murderer.’

  ‘Could she and young Lord Sedgwick be in it together, do you think?’ enquired the sergeant, rather doubtfully.

  ‘I don’t think so, Lane. They only met for the first time the day before yesterday and, although it appears from all accounts to have been love at first sight, it’s quite a step from that to getting into cahoots together to commit a murder, especially when the victim is the mother of one of them.’

  ‘I agree, sir,’ said the sergeant, looking relieved. ‘I wouldn’t like to think that little Miss Simpson was involved in this business.’

  ‘Right, who’s next? Shall we go on to Sir William? He doesn’t appear to have thought much of his sister-in-law, although I can’t see that he disliked her enough to go so far as to kill her. We need to remember, Sergeant, that if we are to believe what Miss Simpson says, there’s a possibility Lady Belvedere wasn’t the intended victim, the girl was.’

  ‘I can’t see what motive Sir William can possibly have had to kill Miss Simpson, can you, sir?’

  ‘No, although I suppose it’s possible that she may have seen or overheard something that he doesn’t want his wife to find out. He had opportunity, of course. By his own account he was the only one in the drawing room at the time, he could easily have gone out of the French windows across the gardens into the wood and he’d know the places to hide. Also, we mustn’t forget that he had breakfast with Miss Simpson. Like as not he heard Crimms telling her Lady Belvedere was ready for their walk.’

  ‘Then there’s Lady Withers, sir. I really don’t think she’s all there no matter what you say about her being shrewd and putting on an act. She strikes me as just the sort of woman who might take it in her head to kill her sister, and we know she didn’t like her much.’

  ‘I think I’d need a better motive for her, Sergeant. And as to a motive for wanting Miss Simpson dead, I can’t imagine unless she was desperate to prevent her from marrying her nephew, but like as not, she would probably have assumed that her sister would be successful in persuading Miss Simpson to pack up and leave. Still, she had opportunity. She could have slipped out onto the landing and down the stairs unobserved, if she was careful, popped out onto the terrace by the study, having picked up the gun on route, and gone off into the woods. She knew about the walk because, as she told us herself, she overheard Lady Belvedere talking about it the evening before and, like her husband, she knew the places to hide. And then she could have slipped back into the house via the study and stopped off to put the gun back into the cabinet, and no-one would have been any the wiser.’

  ‘We’ve been assuming that the lock to the gun cabinet was broken either late last night when everyone had gone to bed or else in the early hours of this morning. I assume though, sir, that there’s no reason why the lock couldn’t have been broken just before the murder took place?’

  ‘I don’t think it was, Lane, it would have been a noisy business breaking that lock. I doubt that the murderer would have chanced it, there’d have been too much risk of being overheard by the servants who’d have been clearing the breakfast things away. Besides, for all the murderer knew, it might have taken quite a while to break the lock and he wouldn’t have wanted to be any longer than necessary in the study, for fear of getting caught.’

  ‘What about the earl, sir? I said as before that the spouse of the victim is the most likely culprit and he wasn’t that fond of her, was he? He said as much himself, he did.’

  ‘You’re right, Lane,’ agreed Deacon, ‘but my problem is that I can’t see a strong enough motive. Yes, we know they didn’t get on insomuch as they hadn’t much in common, but by all accounts they were both perfectly happy living separate lives. And it’s not as if we’ve got any evidence of there being another woman in the offing. Still, Lord Belvedere did have opportunity. We know he breakfasted earlier than everyone else, and that he’d already gone to work in the library before Miss Simpson had come down to breakfast. While she and Sir William were breakfasting, he could have slipped out of the library French windows and gone along to the study and climbed in those ones and picked up the gun before climbing back out again and setting off across the gardens. If you think about it, he could have made sure that the windows to the study were open earlier at the same time that he broke the lock.’

  ‘That would have meant that he’d have been waiting in the woods for them to appear, sir,’ reasoned Lane, ‘rather than creeping up on them once they were already there.’

  ‘It would,’ agreed the inspector, ‘and there’s no reason I can see why it couldn’t have happened like that. Now, if we look at what possible motive he could have had for wanting to do away with Miss Simpson, I think we need only to argue that he wasn’t as indifferent to the possibility of his son marrying her as he purports to be. Whatever he says, I imagine that he’d prefer that his son marry another member of the aristocracy or at least someone with money or similar social standing.’

  ‘In which case, our little Miss Simpson certainly wouldn’t fit the bill,’ said Lane, sadly.

  ‘I’m afraid not. Now, let’s move on to Lord Sedgwick, shall we? Well, it seems to me that his motive for wanting his mother dead is obvious, as we’ve said before, especially if we’re to believe Lord Sneddon that he told him Lady Belvedere indicated that she would not be adverse to his ruining Miss Simpson. That, coupled with only finding out about the walk this morning, would probably be sufficient for a lovesick young man like Lord Sedgwick to act impulsively and recklessly. And, what is more, if we are to take Lord Sneddon’s word, he did indeed drop tools, so to speak, and dash out in pursuit of his mother and Miss Simpson with a view to putting a stop to his mother’s scheming.’

  ‘He wouldn’t have had a motive for wanting Miss Simpson dead though,’ said the sergeant.

  ‘No. I can’t say that I can think of one offhand,’ agreed Deacon. ‘Now, let’s get on to someone far more interesting, Lord Sneddon. I don’t think either of us would lose too much sleep if we were to discover that he was the murderer. He thinks he has implicated Lord Sedgwick by saying that he dashed off in pursuit of his mother, but one could just as easily argue that it leaves him without an alibi for the time of the murder. What’s to say that Lord Sedgwick didn’t just go to his room to try and work out a strategy for thwarting his mother’s attempts to get rid of Miss Simpson? In which case, the way would be left open for Lord Sneddon to follow Lady Belvedere and Miss Simpson into the woods and we bo
th know that he had motives aplenty for wanting to cause both of them harm.’

  ‘We definitely do. I say, sir, something’s just occurred to me. What do you say to our Lord Sneddon intending to kill both women, but that he lost his nerve after having shot only one of them? Miss Simpson was probably screaming her heart out and his first instinct must have been to get as far away from the woods as possible before someone came to her assistance, as they did.’

  ‘That certainly is a possibility worth considering, Lane. We know that Lord Sneddon was for all intents and purposes being blackmailed by the countess. Even though he argues that they were both after the same thing, his marriage to Lady Lavinia, Sneddon does not strike me as a man that would put up with being blackmailed. He probably reckoned that things could only get worse once he had married Lavinia. We both know his type. He’s the sort of young man who will gamble away any money he has and no doubt would be looking to Lady Belvedere to give him additional hand outs from time to time to ensure that her daughter did not end up destitute, and we know she was the sort of woman who would apply conditions to such hand outs.

  ‘He probably thought it made sense to get her out of the picture sooner rather than later. For all we know, he may never have had any intention of stopping his pursuit of young servant girls either before or after he was married, and was afraid that Lady Belvedere would decide that he was not a suitable suitor for her daughter after all and would take steps to prevent the marriage.’

  ‘What about his motive for doing away with Miss Simpson? Do you really think, sir, that he’s the sort of man who would try to kill her just because she had spurned his advances?’

  ‘Yes, I do, Lane, I think he’s exactly the sort of man to do that.’ A grim expression crossed the inspector’s face. ‘Remember he was the duke’s youngest son. Under normal circumstances he would never have inherited the dukedom because he had two older brothers in line before him. But this blessed war we’ve had has changed so many lives and expectations. He has unexpectedly benefited from the fortunes of war but is probably ill prepared to take on what he will inherit. Can you see him taking an interest in his estates, let alone managing them? No, I think he will be interested only in the income that they generate, not on the people who work on them and are dependent on him for their livelihoods.

  ‘But it means that he is now finding that rich aristocratic young women who would previously have had their eyes firmly on his eldest brother have now diverted their attentions to him because of his improved prospects. And, whatever you and I may think of him, he is young and good looking and I have no doubt that he can turn on the charm when it suits him. But it won’t be lost on him that he is where he is by default, and he is bound to feel a little insecure. So when a person like Miss Simpson, who he will regard very much his social inferior, makes it clear that she prefers his young friend to him, I can quite see him getting into a rage and deciding to teach her a lesson.’

  ‘Even so, sir –.’

  ‘Yes, I know, it does sound a little far-fetched even to me, Lane,’ agreed Deacon, ‘but it is a motive of sorts. Now, who have we got left? Ah, yes, the beautiful Lady Lavinia and neurotic Mrs Torrington. Let’s start with the daughter of the deceased, shall we?’

  ‘No love lost between her and her mother,’ said Lane, ‘still, I suppose she may have had second thoughts about Sneddon, I mean let’s face it, who wouldn’t? Her mother might have been having none of it. Perhaps she was trying to force her into the marriage. As to why she would want to kill Miss Simpson, well, perhaps she was just jealous. With her looks, money and social position, I’m sure she’s used to all eyes being on her. She may have resented Sneddon’s interest in her friend, or been afraid that Miss Simpson would become her sister-in-law, she might certainly have baulked at that, sir, being from the wrong class and everything. Of course, she didn’t know that her brother would be here, but even so, I’m sure it upset her seeing Miss Simpson and Lord Sedgwick getting on so well. I bet she expected Miss Simpson’s undivided attention during the stay.’

  ‘Well put, Sergeant. I don’t think I have anything further to add, except that we do know the two girls had some sort of silly falling out about it all and Lady Lavinia was overly keen to accuse poor Miss Simpson of her mother’s murder. I’m guessing that after this has all been resolved those two young women won’t be having anything to do with one another.’

  ‘Unless Miss Simpson marries her brother, of course.’

  ‘There is that, although it’s possible that either the sister or brother are our murderer.’

  ‘That just leaves, Mrs Torrington, sir. And we know she hated Lady Belvedere because of some wrong that she had done her in the past. And she won’t tell us what it was. I think my money’s on her. She seems pretty highly strung if you ask me.’

  ‘She is that,’ agreed Deacon, thinking, ‘but whether it’s the result of guilt, I don’t know. We haven’t really got a very good motive for her wishing Miss Simpson dead, have we? No, if she pulled the trigger, I think it was definitely the countess that she was aiming at and we may never know what she had against her, she’s the sort of woman who’d take her secrets to her grave.’

  ‘What do you want to do now, sir?’

  ‘I think we should retire from here for the day, Sergeant, and go back to the station to think things over away from here. When we come back in the morning, I want to have another look at that lock to the gun cabinet and perhaps do a little experiment. There’ll be pressure on us to solve this case as soon as possible, Lane, what with a member of the aristocracy being the victim and other members being murder suspects. Let’s hope that it takes a day or two for the newspapers to get wind of it, they’ll have a field day.’

  ‘Yes, sir. There’s just one thing. I’m rather concerned about Miss Simpson,’ said Lane, looking anxious. ‘If she was the intended victim might she not still be in danger. What’s to stop someone from taking a pop at her tonight?’

  ‘The same thought crossed my mind earlier, Sergeant,’ grinned Deacon. ‘You needn’t worry your head about it, man. I’ve arranged with Sir William for one of the constables to keep guard. He’ll be based in one of the unoccupied rooms on the first floor, next to Miss Simpson’s. As far as everyone is concerned, he’s staying here in case anyone remembers anything more about the murder or are concerned about there being a murderer on the loose. In actual fact, after everyone’s gone to bed he’ll be keeping guard in the corridor outside Miss Simpson’s room to ensure that she doesn’t come to any harm.

  Chapter Thirty-three

  There had been talk, or more accurately, mutterings of not having dinner in the dining room that evening, but that instead the household and guests eat in ones or twos in their own rooms as they saw fit, with those not feeling up to food abstaining altogether. While Rose could appreciate that few of those present might feel comfortable at the idea of dining with an unknown murderer, she was relieved when Sir William insisted that they all dine together in the normal fashion, for it was likely to have meant otherwise that she would have been obliged to eat alone.

  Dinner, not surprisingly, ended up being a very sombre occasion. No-one bothered much with small talk or pleasantries, both of which seemed superficial and wanting given the circumstances. The tension in the air was unbearable and more than one glass was dropped, with either the glass smashing or the contents being spilt over the snow white table cloth. On one occasion it had been red wine, and Rose thought that she was probably not the only one present to associate it with the blood that had been spilt earlier that day.

  Lavinia had retired to her room alone as soon as dinner was finished, although her presence at table had seemed redundant for she had barely touched a morsel of food or uttered a word, instead absentmindedly chasing a carrot or bean around her plate with her fork. Mrs Palmer had purposefully prepared a very light and almost frugal meal but, even so, most of the dishes had been returned to the kitchen only partially eaten and, in some cases, untouched.

 
Rose made her way slowly up the two staircases, only vaguely aware of the presence of the constable who had stationed himself to one side of her door, a chair propped against the wall indicating that for him, at least, it would be a long night. She knew that she ought to go to bed and try to get some sleep, for she was sure that the following day was to prove just as draining as this one had been, but she was reluctant to do so, sure that she was still suffering from the shock of it all which would deny her sleep.

  She was also very aware that she had not spoken a single word to Lavinia since the tragedy, and that, although any overtures on her part were likely to be turned down, as her friend she must at least try. She tried to pretend that the constable was not there to witness her humiliation as Lavinia sent her away but, raising her hand to tap lightly on her friend’s door, she was aware of the sound of weeping, although a more accurate description might be wailing, for it sounded as if Lavinia was pouring out her very heart. At Rose’s knock the crying stopped abruptly to be replaced by silence and it seemed to Rose that the whole world seemed to hold its breath, so quiet was the house. Rose felt that she waited for minutes for something to happen, although it was actually probably only a few seconds. She was just about to turn away and go to her room when the door was flung open and Lavinia beckoned her inside. The constable half rose from his seat as if he were minded to prevent her from entering the room, but a look from Rose made him sit back down again in his seat looking awkward, as if he feared that he would receive the wrath of his superiors if anything untoward were to happen to her in the room. Rose went in and shut the door behind her.

  ‘Is he there to protect you from us in case you remember something?’ asked Lavinia, sounding disinterested in her own question. She looked awful, Rose thought, in so much as her eyes were red and puffy from crying and her skin was blotchy, but she still managed somehow to look beautiful whereas in similar circumstances another woman would have looked quite plain.